Chapter 8 - The Emergency
Adrian did not leave town. He refused to return to New York. Instead, he rented a suite at the local inn, spending his days watching the clinic from afar, utterly helpless. He did not approach her again; he respected the boundary she had drawn in the rain. But he stayed, desperate just to breathe the same ocean air as the woman he had shattered.
Two weeks later, an unseasonable late-spring storm battered the coast. Gale-force winds knocked down towering pines along the single coastal highway, snapping power lines and plunging the entire peninsula into darkness. Mudslides cut off the mountain pass, severing the town from the county hospital fifty miles away.
Inside her seaside cottage, Evelyn woke up in the middle of the night to a sharp, tearing agony in her lower abdomen.
She gasped, clutching the bedpost. Her water had broken. She was thirty-six weeks along—nearly a month early. Another wave of contractions tore through her body, so violent that she fell to her knees on the braided rug, unable to catch her breath.
She reached for her bedside phone. No signal. The storm had knocked out the cell towers.
Groaning in pain, Evelyn dragged herself toward the front door. The wind howled against the wooden cedar planks like a wild beast. She managed to push the door open, crying out into the roaring gale, “Help! Somebody, please!”
Through the sheets of torrential rain, headlights flared down the private drive. A black SUV barreled through the muddy ruts, tires spinning violently before screeching to a halt at the foot of her porch.
Adrian leaped out into the storm without a coat, sprinting toward the porch. He had spent every night parked at the bend of the road, terrified that she might need help during the storm.
“Evelyn!” he screamed, catching her just as her knees gave out. He lifted her into his arms, feeling the burning heat radiating from her skin. “What is it? What’s happening?”
“The baby... it’s coming,” she gasped, clutching his soaking shirt with white-knuckled fingers. “Adrian, it hurts... something is wrong!”
Adrian carried her into the back of the SUV, shouting to Marcus, who was behind the wheel. “Get to the clinic! Now! Step on it!”
“The main road is flooded, Mr. Vale!” Marcus yelled over the roar of the engine.
“Find a way, Marcus! If you have to drive through the timber paths, get us there!”
Inside the vehicle, Adrian cradled Evelyn’s head in his lap, smoothing back her soaked hair with trembling, gentle hands. He didn't care about his clothes, his pride, or the world outside. Another contraction hit Evelyn, and she screamed, burying her face into his chest. Instinctively, Adrian took her hand, letting her squeeze his fingers until the bones ached.
“I’m here, Evie,” he whispered, his voice cracking with fierce devotion, calling her by the nickname he hadn't used in ten years. “Breathe with me. In and out. I’m right here. I’m not letting go. I will never let go again.”
When the SUV smashed through the storm debris outside the local clinic, Thomas Hayes was already waiting at the emergency doors with an oil lantern and a medical kit. The power was dead, but Thomas had hooked up an old diesel generator.
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“Get her onto the gurney!” Thomas ordered, barking commands.
Adrian lifted Evelyn onto the stretcher, refusing to release her hand even as they wheeled her into the delivery room. Thomas checked her vitals and swore under his breath. “The umbilical cord is compressed. The baby is in distress. We don't have time to wait for an ambulance from the city. We have to deliver him right now, or we lose them both.”
